


A Prologue

by Kalian_Corvus



Series: Kal’s 40k Tales [1]
Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25323919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalian_Corvus/pseuds/Kalian_Corvus
Summary: A Grim Monologue of one of the Most powerful emotions.And a preview of my work to come.As I will be doing with most my works, I’ll be taking a few liberties with the source material. Not many, but a few.
Series: Kal’s 40k Tales [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1834228





	A Prologue

In the Grim-dark Future of the 42nd Millennium, There is Only War.  
This is practically the sole Rule, the sole truth to this Horrid Galaxy. From the Far reaches of the Ultima Segmentum, to the Utterly ravaged worlds surrounding the Eye of Terror. And yet. All beings push on. Finding Comfort, Strength, and Solace within the crevices of the countless burning systems within the Galaxy. Some find them in The tools of work. Their life only having purpose to provide for their fellow kind. Others look to the Steadfast Nature of weaponry and war, laughing as they charge into the fray. Some look to the sterility and perseverance of steel. More still put their hope into the hands of Gods. Having faith they will gift them these three commodities. Whether those prayers fall upon Deaf ears...I’m not to say.  
But there are few. Who, whether finding it while fighting, being taken by enemies, living a mundane life, or working alongside one another in the numerous convoluted systems of the Galaxy, find their Comfort, their Strength, their Solace, in love.  
It rarely lasts. Most of the time being torn apart by the very systems they put their mistrusted faith in. In the case of the Imperium of man, These emotions can, depending on the circumstance, lead to countless sudden Punishments, arising purely for ones neglect of their rules, in favor of desire. The culprits being flogged, shot, or worse. Sometimes being sent to pleasure worlds as a spiteful gesture of ironic punishment. “If you wish to breed, you’ll be put to work breeding for the good of the imperium”. But some are permitted to persue these interests to their own delight. Albeit typically in the upper Echelons of society or bureaucracy.  
For the Eldar who inhabit their drifting craft worlds, such feelings are feared. As Desire is one of the most beloved wines of the twisted laughing God who hungers for each and every one of their souls. For the Eldar living in self imposed exile, the risk is less great. Allowing them to explore these desires. Sometimes with other Exodites, Sometimes the passing Corsair, and sometimes in rare situations, the passing Mon-Keigh. But even worse are the Dark Eldar. Those Languid Degenerates Creeping in their dark realm within the Webway. Who Pursue these intense desires however they see fit. With it often taking a grizzly turn. Performing horrid acts on slaves. Keeping one or two being they find “cute” close by. Carving symbols and Icons into these favored’s skin and flesh to make it clear who owns them. Or even turning to other Dark Eldar, causing a chain reaction in their wayward and Tempestuous romance, Exponentially increasing their Sadistic Actions upon the poor souls they capture.  
For the Servants of Chaos. Love and Desire take on entirely new meanings and Dimensions. Love could be Spreading the plagues of Grandfather Nurgle, Sharing in his gifts. It could be watching one another’s back as you wade through carnage, eviscerating any foe in your way in dedication to the great Khorne. Perhaps sharing arcane knowledge, and using it to gift each other more power, and bringing a constant change where you travel in the name of Tzeentch is what you see as Love. Or perhaps. You subscribe to the constant sensory uplift that is the carnal drive, and deep overflowing emotion that can be achieved in the pursuit of appeasing Slaanesh. Or perhaps you enjoy a mix of all the above.  
Some ancient beings Recoil, Thrash, Destroy in search of love long lost. Often because it was stolen from them by Death’s icy, calamitous jaws.  
Some Young Races View it as a tool to bond two minds and souls, strengthening them both in pursuit of a Greater Good.  
There are plenty of Different definitions, outcomes, and Consequences of the fatal emotion known as love. But regardless, like anything in this Galaxy, if it hopes to last. It must be strong.


End file.
